


The Cop and The Criminal

by ThatComicGirl52



Series: Monthly Oneshots [17]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, Monthly oneshot, Officer Dick Grayson, mob boss matches malone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 17:53:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatComicGirl52/pseuds/ThatComicGirl52
Summary: Officer Dick Grayson faces criminal, Matches Malone. What more do I have to say?





	The Cop and The Criminal

**Author's Note:**

> This is my monthly oneshot for May. Thank you so much to Do_The_Cool_Whip, who without her, this oneshot would not exist. This was the oneshot pairing that was voted for this previous month on my monthly oneshot poll. To find out how you can take part in my poll, and have access to more exciting things having to do with my fanfiction, check out my tumblr at thatcomicgirl52.tumblr.com.  
> This fic takes place in a different universe then my fanficiton, Million Reasons To Leave.

Detective Bullock stomps into the office, his face red with anger and frustration. Both Commissioner Gordon and I look up in surprise as he slams the office door closed.

“That man is like a statue. I’ve been interrogating him for the past two hours. Nothing.” Bullock says, glaring. I look over at the Commissioner with a raised a brow, my hands in my uniform pockets. Gordon gives me a hopeless look in return.

“Maybe he has a soft spot for baby blue eyes over here.” Gordon says, gesturing to me. Bullock crosses his arms over his chest, giving me the once over. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

I don’t expect any different from Harvey Bullock. I am still the newest police officer in the precinct. Of course everyone is still going to have their doubts about me. Most of them still look at me and see a spoiled sweet rich kid. They don’t see me as part of the GCPD.

“I doubt it,” Bullock says with a snort, but it doesn’t matter what he thinks. I look back at the Commissioner, hoping he won’t let Bullock’s opinion sway his decision.

Gordon just shrugs though, and I know I’ve won before he even speaks.

“Nothing else has worked yet. What do we have to lose?”

I can’t help but grin in triumphant.

  
  


*****************

 

I’m surprisingly calm when I enter the interrogation room. It’s quiet and dark. I can hardly hear him breathing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was alone in the room.

I turn to close the door behind me, focusing on the shape of the doorknob. It’s been a long time since I last saw him. Five years, actually, but it feels like a lifetime ago. 

I close my eyes, willing myself to pull it together. Can’t mess up now, Grayson. I told the Commissioner I can do this. I swore to him that I could make the guy talk, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do. 

I turn to face Matches, well aware of the two sided mirror across from him. I have to be careful about what I say and do. We’re being watched.

I almost forgot how beautiful he is. My memories don’t do him justice. His sculpted jaw, his midnight black hair swept perfectly back. His deep blue eyes that are so hypnotizing, I feel like I could drown in them. He’s so goddamn mesmerizing, even with the bloody gash near his right eye. A long line of blood dribbles down the side of his face. Bullock must have slammed his head against the table, in an effort to get the truth out of him.  

He’s still so beautiful though, even with blood all over his face. It makes me remember all the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place.

Bullock was right though; Matches is like a statue. He shows not a hint of emotion when he sees me. It’s like he’s staring at a perfect stranger.

I clear my throat before taking the seat opposite of him. My face goes hot with embarrassment as I’m suddenly hit with a memory.

 

_ Sweat runs down my back, glistening in the sunlight. I feel filthy, the cum drying against my thighs, but I can’t bring myself to care. I don’t care that I smell like sex, or that I feel like I could collapse from exhaustion. I just want more of him.  _

_ “That good, baby?” He grunts against my neck, thrusting in harder than before. I can’t find the words to answer him. All I can do is moan hopelessly in response, clutching at his bare back.  _

_ Matches chuckles darkly, sending a shiver down my spine. _

_ “Maybe I’ll just keep you here forever. How’d you like that, Dickie?”  _

_ He thrusts in even harder, my body shaking against his. My ass jiggles from the impact. Matches smirks, grabbing it tightly with both hands. _

_ “Fucking love this tight ass. I can fuck it every day for the rest of my fucking life!”  _

_ Those words are my own kind of aphrodisiac. They make me so hot. They make me push him back down onto the bed and ride him like he’s a horse. _

_ Matches lets me, laughing. _

_ Matches Malone is not the sort of guy I should be doing this with. He is bad news. He is not a good person. He’s a mob boss and a drug pusher. He’s a murderer. I shouldn’t feel this way about him. I shouldn’t be turned on by every little thing he does. _

_ But I am, and no matter how much we fuck, I can’t ever stop. He’s a drug, and I’m addicted to him. _

 

“Mr. Malone,” I begin, staring at the filthy wound on his gorgeous face, before looking away. “I need you to tell me what was in the suitcase you gave to Tony Accardo. I also need to know what Tony Accardo’s real name is.”

Matches lips curls up into a snide smile, his eyes mischievous. That aggravates me, because he thinks I’m playing a game. He thinks I’m treating this the way an actor would a play. 

I take a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. Getting angry won’t help the situation.

“Tony Accardo is his real name.” Matches says, his tone light and airy. I glare at him. He knows I know better than that.

“Tony Accardo was an Italian mob boss from the 1950’s. It’s an alias. What’s his  _ actual name? _ ” 

I know they’re watching me from the other side of the mirror, analyzing and picking apart every little thing. I have to act like I don’t know Matches. Like this is the first time we’ve ever met. Matches knows this too. He’s playing along with me. I’m grateful for that. If the Commissioner knew about my past with Matches, I can very well lose my job. My entire career would be over.

Matches leans in, smirking as red blood dribbles down his face like a scarlet ribbon.

“Did you figure that out by yourself, Grayson? Or did someone have to spell it out for you?” 

 

_ “Get down and stay down,” Matches says hurriedly, shoving my head under the desk. I gasp for breath, the cum dribbling down my chin. I don’t argue as Matches slips his dick back into his pants, zipping up his fly.  _

_ He watches his office door, preparing for the shit that’s about to go down. I keep my mouth shut, trying to stay as quiet as a mouse. _

_ “BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!” _

_ I close my eyes, trying to block out the sounds of the gunshots. The door opens with another bang. _

_ “Where’s my fucking money, Malone?!!” The man shouts, coming farther into the room. I go even further under the desk, in fear of being found out. This is the problem with meeting Matches at his place of work. Chances are better of someone catching us, and possibly getting killed. _

_ What can I say though? It had been nearly a week since we last had sex. I was desperate. _

_ “What are you rambling on about now, Castle?” Matches asks, his tone tired and bored. Some people might be scared of an ugly grunt like Castle, but not Matches. Guns and angry mobsters? For Matches Malone, that’s just a typical Tuesday. _

_ “You promised a reward for trading the bitch in. I got you the girl, so where’s the half million?!” Castle shouts. I press my lips into a deep frown. Castle’s an idiot. _

_ “Here’s your reward.” Matches says with a straight face. He pulls a gun out of his suit, and before I can even suck in a breath, he aims and shoots. _

_ I hear the loud “BANG!” of the gun, and then I hear the thump of Castle’s dead body hitting the floor. _

_ I look up at Matches, expecting to see at least a hint of emotion on his face. But there is no such thing. I watch, both horrified and fascinated, as he pulls out his phone, dials a number, and asks someone to come and clean up the mess in his office. _

_ When he hangs up the phone, he looks back down at me, and smiles. It calms me, his smile. When I see Matches smile, I can almost forget everything I’ve just witnessed. _

_ “Sorry about that, babe. Daddy lost his patience.” He says, running a gentle hand through my hair. I lean into that hand, practically purring at the touch. I glow under his attention.  _

_ God, I love him so fucking much. _

 

I glance over at the mirror and then back at Matches. He’s watching me expectantly, waiting to see what my next move will be. 

“Are you thirsty? Do you want some water?” I ask, feigning concern. Matches scoffs.

“Don’t try the good cop act on me. Don’t be something you’re not.” he says. I try to ignore the double meaning of that statement. 

His face goes serious again, his gaze narrowing, “But something tells me you’re one of the good ones anyway, aren’t you?”

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, clearing my throat. I won’t let Matches get to me. I’m better than that. I’m better than I was before. Unlike all those years ago, I know what I’m worth now, and I know I’m stronger than Matches gives me credit for. I’m not the same pathetic and desperate boy he once knew.

“Just,” I begin, closing my eyes and sighing. I open them again, my gaze heavy and tired, “Just tell me something. Anything. If not a name, then a place. Please.”

There’s a long moment of silence where Matches just looks at me, his gaze unwavering. I don’t glance away. I don’t let him intimidate me. I meet him eye to eye. I’m willing to wait this one out.

I know that at some point, Matches will tell me what I need to know. He won’t be able to help himself. We have a long history, and Matches was too in love with me to deny me anything. Even now when I’m a cop and he’s the criminal.

It’s only a matter of time before I get truth out of him.

 

_ “Do you love me?” I ask, and then immediately wish I hadn’t. What a stupid question to have asked.  _

_ I can feel my face burn up with embarrassment. I wish a hole would open up beneath me and swallow me whole. Anything to get out me out of here. _

_ I can barely look at Matches. He looks so surprised, so taken back by my question. If I wasn’t so embarrassed, I’d make a joke about having left him speechless. No one leaves Matches speechless. _

_ I hide my face against his neck, breathing in his musky scent. Hopefully he doesn’t kick me out of his bed for asking that. Matches doesn’t  _ do  _ feelings. He doesn’t talk about the mushy, soft stuff. He’s a manly man; a mobster, a criminal, a killer. Matches doesn’t love anybody. He certainly doesn’t say it. _

_ “I love…,” be begins, but then pauses, as if considering his next words. I wait on baited breath for his answer, “I love your baby blue eyes.” _

_ Oh. For a moment, I’m disappointed with his answer, but then I understand.  _

_ Matches can’t say he loves someone, but that might be the closest he ever comes to it. _

 

“You know the south docks of Gotham Harbor?” Matches suddenly says, breaking the silence. His question surprises me. I had drifted off for a moment there, wrapped up in old memories of him. I look back at him.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“This Thursday night, at one. Bring your best men. That’s all the information I have.” he explains. 

It takes me a second to realize that Matches actually told me something useful. He actually gave me information that I needed. 

Holy crap. I can’t believe I was right. I can’t believe Matches actually confessed for me. I mean, I know he knows more than he’s letting on, but something is better than nothing.

I give the mirror a nod, expecting that Gordon and Bullock have already left the room. They got the information they needed. There’s no point to sticking around for the rest. Another cop can handle Matches now. I don’t think I can.

I push my chair back and stand, the scraping of the chair against the floor obnoxiously loud. I can’t help but grin, feeling victorious. I told the Commissioner I would get something useful out of Matches, and I did. This will go a long way with the rest of the force. 

“Thank you, Mr. Malone. You might have just saved dozens of lives tonight,” I say as I head towards the door, “Another officer will be in here shortly.”

I don’t want to spend another minute in a room with Matches. I only came in here because I thought I might be able to get him to tell me something useful. I was right, and now that it’s done, I can’t be in here anymore. 

Matches and I left a lot of things unresolved. We loved each other a lot, but there were so many problems with our relationship. He didn’t see me as an equal. I didn’t see myself as an equal. I didn’t want to live that kind of life anymore. I didn’t want to just sit there and watch people die.

We’re just too different.

“Officer Grayson?” He says, as I begin to open the door. I pause, daring to look over my shoulder at him. It might be the last time I ever look at Matches, so I take a good long moment to memorize him. To cement into my memory the way his lips curl around words, and the way his jaw twitches before he speaks.

It’s weird. I want to forget him, but at the same time, I want to remember everything.

“I do love your baby blue eyes.”

I swallow thickly, suddenly finding it very hard to look at him. I can see the sincerity in his eyes. I can see the way the corner of his lips curl into a slight smile. My feet feel glued to floor. He makes it so hard to walk away.

“Thank you, Mr. Malone.” I manage to whisper. I open the door gently, forcing myself to leave the room.

It’s what I had to do then, and it’s what I have to do now. Force myself to leave. Force myself to say goodbye, and try not to regret it.

 


End file.
